She tried not to think too long or hard on that point and where it might lead, while holding Harlowe’s gaze.“Had I not interfered, Lundquist might have done as you suggest.Mr.Croft could very well have been arrested on grounds of assault.But it would have been a brief arrest, not the sort that would keep him locked away for good or possibly hanged.”
It took some effort to fight the tremor that threatened to jolt her entire being as she envisioned a rope being tied around Croft’s neck.He did not matter.He could not matter.This was her job – what she had been trained to do.There could be no room for doubt or personal attachment.
“Kendrick was clear,” she added.“He wants Mr.Croft gone for good, one way or the other.That means we’ll need more than him grabbing a man by the lapels and throwing insinuations at him.”
“You’re right,” Harlowe said, his voice thoughtful.“With the sort of barrister Mr.Croft has at his service, he’d be home again within hours.”
Relief settled firmly between her shoulder blades.Harlowe understood.She would not have to make any further excuses.A soft exhalation soothed her tense muscles and let her relax.“Trust me in this.I know what I’m doing.Gaining Mr.Croft’s confidence gradually is the best way forward – the surest way for me to establish a close relationship with him.”
“The ball we’re hosting was meant to help with that, but after what happened tonight, Mr.Croft is unlikely to attend.”
Samantha knew he was right.“I realize this might look like a setback, but maybe we can use it to our advantage.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“We invite Mr.Croft to join us for luncheon instead.”It was a risk, one that could end up going horribly wrong.
Aware of this, Harlowe said, “Since we’ve never done so before, he might wonder about the reason, and that could lead to suspicion on his part.”
“It could.But in light of all I have learned thus far, I believe Mr.Croft will be far more likely to let down his guard and open up if he knows I’m doing the same.When I confided in him about riding astride dressed in breeches, a bond formed between us.Telling him something I’d not want others to know, sharing my secrets and letting him think I’m being completely open and honest, is the right way to go.By letting him see where I live, I’ll be granting him a glimpse behind the curtain, an intimacy that I’m sure will aid in our cause.”
“You make a compelling argument.”Carriage wheels crunching gravel accompanied Harlowe’s statement.“An invitation will also indicate that what happened tonight changes nothing.You and I support him.We are his friends and as such, we’re on his side.Nothing to fear.”
“Precisely,” Samantha agreed even though she disliked Harlowe’s phrasing.He made it sound as though they were setting a sinister trap, and in many ways they were, she just… A shake of her head banished the thought and then the carriage drew to a halt.
Harlowe set his hand on the handle, then glanced her way.“Send the invitation, Samantha.The sooner the better.”
She exited the carriage behind him and entered the house that had been her home for the past fifteen years.There was no sense in wondering where her current path would lead her, so she did her best not to.What scared her the most was the question of whether or not she’d be able to follow her orders in the end.
Only time would tell.
* * *
Adrian berated himself the entire way home.He was furious.How could he have lost control so easily?It was embarrassing to think of.He’d resorted to baser instinct in front of half of London.In front of Miss Carmichael, no less.Had his father still been alive he’d have whipped him for the stupidity of it.
Never lose your cool.
Always keep a level head.
Don’t resort to violence unless you yourself are attacked.
He’d ignored those words of wisdom completely this evening.All because Lundquist had dared to smile – because Adrian had needed a target for all his anger and pain.
It wasn’t fair and it sure as hell wasn’t wise.
He had to do better.
With his jacket rumpled and his shirt still slightly askew from the altercation, Adrian entered his home where he handed his hat and gloves to Elks.
“Please see to it that a bath is prepared and that Murry is ready to attend me,” he told the butler before heading into the parlor.There he poured himself a large glass of brandy from which he proceeded to sip while staring into the fire that burned in the grate.
He needed additional clues – something more substantial – but finding them was proving a chore.All he had was a button, a man who might or might not have been eating sugar-glass, and Miss Fairchild’s connection to Lundquist.
None of it amounted to much.It wasn’t enough to prove a damn thing.
Frustrated, he downed the remaining contents of his glass and re-filled it.A visit to Lady Camille’s family might be in order next.Hell, he’d not even discerned if she’d been involved with Lundquist somehow.Or if Miss Irvine had been acquainted with him as well.
If not, then it was unlikely he’d somehow managed to lure them to their deaths.Unless he’d accomplished the feat by applying his rank and some sort of threat or promise or…
